The Nomad (33 page)

She waited, tensely, as the moments passed like hours, and then he reappeared, slowly fading into view. The wound made by the enchanted blade had closed, and there was now no sign of blood. The Breastplate of Argentum had disappeared, as well. She opened his robe and saw that it had melded into him, becoming part of his flesh, its silver links of faintly glowing chain mail now become silvery feathers on his chest, like the breast of a bird.

And then the Sage opened his eyes. They were completely blue, no whites, no pupils, just radiant blue orbs that seemed to glow. A long and heavy sigh escaped his lips.

“We are all together now,” he said. And then he smiled, faintly. “It has begun.”

“So my quest is finished,” Sorak said as he awoke and saw Kara looking down at him.

“Life is a quest,” Kara replied. “A quest for answers and for meaning. And yours is far from over.”

“The only answer I have ever sought was who my parents were and what became of them,” said Sorak. “And the only meaning in my life that I have ever found was in my search for the Sage.”

“You have found the answer that you sought, and you have found the Sage, as well. That is more than most people could hope to do in their entire lifetimes. But that is still merely a beginning. There is more meaning in your life than you may realize. It is found in your dedication to the Way of the Druid and the Path of the Preserver. And you can also find meaning in the bond that exists between you and Ryana, which your search has only strengthened. You can find it in yourself, as well, as you explore the new meaning of who you are, and who you may yet become.”

Sorak moistened his lips. “They are gone now,” he said, thinking of the tribe. “It feels so strange. It feels… lonely. Is this what it means to feel as others do, this loneliness?” He shook his head. “I never knew.”

He sighed. “They were afraid that if I found the Sage and asked his help, then he would somehow make them go away. And yet, throughout my quest, they helped me, despite knowing that it might mean their deaths.”

“Not their death, but their release, and yours,” said Kara. “And in that, you can find even more meaning.”

“So what happens now?”

The pyreen smiled. “Life happens. The Path of the Preserver is a long one, and often difficult, but the Way shall guide you. The sorcerer-kings grow stronger, and with each passing day, the planet is despoiled and the threat of dragons grows greater. All of us must face our dragons, in due time. But for now, let time stand still. The gateway is now closed. Those stairs now lead down not to Bodach, but to a garden where Ryana waits, to learn what you have discovered. She has pestered me with countless questions, wanting to know what had happened while she slept, but it is not for me to tell her. Go to her.”

Sorak swallowed hard and held his breath as he stared at the pyreen. “What of the Sage?”

“He rests now,” Kara said. “He shall rest for a long time. He has completed a difficult stage in the metamorphosis, and it shall take him much longer to recover than it has taken you. He will sleep for days, perhaps even weeks, and he must not be disturbed. He asked me to wish you well, and to say good-bye. For now.”

“I just hope they are happy now,” Sorak said, thinking of the tribe. “I miss them. I feel a curious… emptiness.”

“Yes,” said Kara, “it is a feeling known by all, males and females alike. I am sure Ryana can tell you all about it. Go to her, Nomad. She has waited long enough.”

He descended the stone stairs, past tower rooms that looked completely new, not even remotely like the ruin with the rotted floors that he had seen when first he climbed the steps up to the top. When he reached the ground floor, he saw a heavy wooden door where before there had been only a crumbling stone archway. He opened it and stepped out into a lovely garden filled with fragrant flowers and green plants with large fronds waving gently in the summer breeze. There was grass beneath his feet, lush and thick, green grass such as he had never seen before, and the song of birds filled the air.

At the far end of the garden stood a stone wall over which he could see a rolling plain stretching out before him. And, from behind him, the wind blew an unfamiliar odor, sharp, bracing, and refreshing. As he turned around and gazed out past the tower, he realized it was the odor of the sea. Its blue-green vastness stretched out before him, not a sea of silt, but a sea of water, more water than he could ever have imagined. There was no sign at all of Bodach. They were in a time so ancient, the city had not yet even been built. There was just the tower, with nothing else around it. Nothing but the sea on one side, and a world that he had only imagined in his childhood dreams. A green world. A world untouched and unspoiled by defiler magic. It was so beautiful, it took his breath away. “It
is
lovely, is it not?” Ryana said. He turned and saw her standing a short distance away, holding a red flower in her hand. She held it out to him.

“It is called a rose,” she said. “I never imagined that anything could smell as sweet.”

She held it out to him, and he sniffed it, savoring its delicate perfume.

“It is wonderful,” he said. “I never imagined that it could be anything like this.”

“We cannot stay, you know,” Ryana said. “Kara says we must go back. We do not belong here, in this time.”

“I know,” said Sorak.

“If only we could stay,” she said wistfully. “When I see that this is how the world once was and think of what it has become, it makes me want to weep.”

“Perhaps, one day, we can come back,” he said. “And now that we know what the world can be, we shall know why we walk the Path of the Preserver. It shall have new meaning for us.”

“Yes,” she said. “The desert can be beautiful, even in its desolation, but there is room on Athas both for the desert
and
for this.” She hesitated. “How do you feel now?”

“Strange,” said Sorak. “Very strange. There is an emptiness inside me that I have never known before.”

“They are all gone then?”

“Yes. All gone. I shall miss them terribly. I did not realize what it felt like, to be… normal. I feel like a mere shadow of my former self. Or selves,” he added wryly. “Yes, I shall miss them. But I shall have to learn to live without them.”

“You still have me,” she said, gazing at him, then looking down at the ground. “That is, if you still want me.”

“I have always wanted you, Ryana,” he said. “You know that.”

“Yes, I know. And I knew what stood between us. So… what stands between us now?”

“Nothing,” he said as he took her in his arms and held her close, kissing her neck softly. “And now nothing ever will.”

* * *

“It is time,” said Kara, as they stood in the top chamber of the tower. “The gateway is about to open.”

“Can we not say our farewells to the Sage?” asked Ryana.

Kara shook her head. “We are between the worlds now. If you go down those stairs now, it will take you back to Bodach. You cannot reach the Sage’s chambers, where he sleeps. And even if you could, you could not wake him. Someday, there will be another time. But for now, we must return back to the time from which we came.”

“Very well, then,” Sorak said. “We are ready.” Kara glanced out the window as the dark sun slowly dipped below the horizon and the last rays of its light faded from view. “The gateway is now open,” she said.

They started down the stairs. As they descended, the stone walls seemed to age, and a thick layer of dust appeared upon the steps. They passed the lower levels, which no longer had floors, and the fresh smell of the sea was gone now, replaced by the harsh odor of the silt that blew in through the narrow apertures. They were back in their own time once again, and it suddenly seemed even more desolate than they had remembered.

“It will be night outside,” Ryana said. “What of the undead?”

“We shall wait within the tower until sunrise,” Kara said. “They will not come in, and we will be safe.”

“You are a most persistent man, Valsavis,” Sorak said. “But you are too late. I have already fulfilled the object of my quest.”

Valsavis stared at him for a moment, and then he started laughing. Sorak and Kara both gaped at him with astonishment while Ryana hung limply in his powerful grasp.

“You know,” Valsavis said, “this is the first time in my life I have ever truly found something to be funny. So, you have crowned your wizard king, have you? And what a splendid palace he resides in! Hail the mighty druid king, hiding in a ruin, like a cowering rodent among the rotting corpses of Bodach. I had assumed this place held more than met the eye when I saw that the undead would not come in here. What a wail they set up outside when I came in. It seems they wanted me to come outside and play. It was a shame to disappoint them, but I had already killed some of them two or three times, and there’s a limit to my patience. So, you have found what you were searching for. And to think, I could have fulfilled the object of my quest, as well… if only I had possessed the strength to climb those damned stairs.” He started chuckling once again.

“Let her go, Valsavis,” Sorak said. “There is nothing to be gained from this.”

“There is
always
something to be gained,” Valsavis replied. “It all depends on what you want, and what you will settle for. I was half dead when I came in here. But never have I fought so fiercely. You should have seen me, elfling. I was a bloody marvel. I waited here all night, and then throughout the day. I did not know what posed the greater danger, those corpses coming in here or you coming back down and finding me asleep. Still, I napped a little here and there, when I passed out from the pain.” He chuckled again. “You know, it truly is amusing. Nibenay would give anything to see this, but right now, some walking corpse is chewing on his yellow eyeball, along with my left hand. Of course, the Shadow King has doubtless withdrawn the enchantment from the ring and cannot feel it. Pity. I would so like to share some of my discomfort with him.”

“Valsavis…” said Sorak. “It is finished. Let her go.”

Valsavis snorted. “You realize that I came here to kill you,” he said.

“Well, your success seems somewhat doubtful at the moment,” Sorak said. “You can scarcely stand. Give it up, Valsavis. The Shadow King cares nothing for you. He has only used you, and look what it has brought you.”

“It could have brought me everything,” Valsavis said. “It still can. Nibenay would give much to know where he can find your master. He did not tell me who it was. He pretended not to know, but I am not a fool. There can only be one preserver wizard whom a sorcerer-king would fear. You see, elfling, even if Nibenay did not discover the location of the Sage through me,
I
still succeeded. I am
here.
And neither you, the priestess, nor the pyreen, nor even an army of undead could stop me.”

“Indeed,” said Kara. “Your tenacity is without peer. I must congratulate you.”

“I failed only in one thing,” Valsavis said, glancing at Ryana. And then he grinned with bloody teeth. “If I’d only had more time, priestess. Too bad. We would have made quite a pair, you and I. It really is… too bad.”

“If you harm her, Valsavis,” Sorak said through gritted teeth, “then I swear you shall not leave this place alive.”

“Do you, indeed?” Valsavis said. “And what about you, shapechanger? I will have you swear, as well. Swear by your vows as a preserver that if I release the priestess, you shall do nothing to interfere. Swear, or I will drive this point right through her lovely throat!”

“I swear by my vows as a preserver that I shall not interfere in any way,
if
you release Ryana unharmed,” said Kara.

“You have my word,” Valsavis said. “But first, the elfling must give up his magic sword.”

“It would not do you any good, Valsavis,” Sorak said. “You serve a defiler. Galdra’s enchantment would not work for you.”

“Give it to the pyreen, then,” Valsavis said. “We will fight like men, with daggers and without enchantment, so we can see each other’s eyes.”

Without hesitating, Sorak removed his sword belt and scabbard, then handed them to Kara. Valsavis released Ryana, and she collapsed to the floor. He put his knife between his teeth, drew his own sword and tossed it aside, then grasped his dagger once again with his one remaining hand.

As Sorak drew his own knife, he realized that, for the first time, he would not have the tribe behind him. The Shade would not be there to storm forth like a juggernaut from his subconscious. The Guardian’s gifts were no longer his to call on. The Ranger, Eyron, Kether… all were gone. He was deprived of Galdra, and Kara had sworn not to interfere.

He faced Valsavis alone.

But at the same time, the mercenary was seriously injured. He had even lacked the strength to climb the stairs. True, he had rested some, but he had also lost a lot of blood. How could he hope to prevail in such a weakened condition?

“I have no wish to kill you, Valsavis,” Sorak said, shaking his head.

“You must,” Valsavis replied emphatically. “You have no choice. I have found the sanctuary of the Sage. If I fail to return, then Nibenay shall just assume that I was killed by the undead and joined their ranks, and that you have gone on with your quest. But if I live, then I shall take what I have learned and sell it to him. And he shall pay whatever price I ask. One way or the other, Sorak, one of us shall not leave here alive.”

“It does not have to be that way,” said Sorak as they slowly started circling. “You have seen the treasure room. There is more wealth there than you could ever hope to spend. Surely, there would be enough to buy your silence.”

“Perhaps, if my silence could be bought,” Valsavis said. “But there would never be enough to buy my pride. I have never yet failed to complete a contract. It is the principle of the thing, you know.”

“I understand,” said Sorak.

“I thought you would.”

They circled each other warily, crouched over slightly, watching for an opening. Each held his blade sideways, close to his body to avoid the possibility of having it kicked away or trapped by a quick grasp at the wrist. Valsavis lifted his arm out in front of him slightly to block, as did Sorak. They each held the other’s gaze, watching the eyes carefully, for by watching the eyes, the entire body could also be seen, and the eyes were often the first to telegraph intent.